


Steps

by felisblanco



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-03-26
Updated: 2006-03-26
Packaged: 2018-10-20 02:57:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10653480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/felisblanco/pseuds/felisblanco
Summary: First there is bickering. Then there is sex on a staircase. With peanut butter.





	Steps

**Author's Note:**

> For [](http://tx-cronopio.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://tx-cronopio.livejournal.com/)**tx_cronopio**
> 
> Who asked for: _Spike and a staircase_. Huh?  Well, you know how sometimes you feel like you're writing a piece of art?  This is not art.  This will not win a Nobel price.  This has no plot.  This has no particular characterization or backstory or was even thought out the least.  This is smut, nothing more, nothing less.  I was thinking of calling it Nude Ascending a Staircase a la Calvin and Hobbes but that would give the plot away.  Erm... oops?
> 
> Spangel. Ats S5.  Rated NC-17 for buttsex and indecent use of peanut butter. 3800 words.

  
Angel closed the door firmly behind him, coat over his arm, and turned around only to stop short at the sight of a dark figure sitting slumped on the wide stairs that lead to the upper landing.  
  
“What are you doing here?”  
  
“Knitting.” Spike rolled  his eyes at the confused look in Angel's eyes.  “What does it look like I'm doing, you ponce?”  He swung the bottle in his hand.  
  
Angel gave him an irritated frown.  “Getting drunk and being annoying as usual.  Do you have to do that here?  The day is over, no one left here to annoy.”  
  
“Well, there is you.  I'm not greedy.”  Spike slowly got to his feet.  “Besides, don't exactly have anywhere else to go.”  
  
Angel dismissed him with a wave of his hand and pulled on his coat.  “There are bars and alleys and hey, what do you know!  Cemeteries.  All the places you love.  So go there.  Shoo.”  
  
“The alleys were always more your thing, Angelus.  Rats and other rodents to keep you company, right?”   
  
Spike's mocking voice had a hurt sting to it that Angel after a split second's pause decided to ignore, instead shrugging as he pushed the button for the elevator.  “Whatever.  Far better company than the one I've got right now.”  
  
Spike smirked.  “You're just saying that because I won't let you eat me-”  
  
They both froze, Spike slowly turning pink while Angel stared at him, slightly flushed himself.  
  
“Erm... I meant...”  Spike straightened up.  “So where you off to then?”  
  
Angel shook his head clear and awkwardly pushed the button again, glaring up at the numbers that didn't change at all.  “None of your business.”  
  
Spike clicked his tongue, smirking.  “Right.  Hmmm...”  He tilted his head in thought.  “Fancy coat, extra ton of hairgel poisoning your ugly head...”  He snapped his fingers in triumph.  “Ah! Going to see Wolfgirl, eh?”  
  
“It's a full moon, Spike.”  Angel gave him his best what-kind-of-vampire-are-you look, complete with raised eyebrows and everything.  “Don't really want to get eaten either.”  He smiled at Spike's obvious embarrassment.  'Not that way at least,' he added in his head.  
  
Spike scowled and sniffed the air.  “This place... it's not natural, you know.  Never quite know whether it's even day or night when I'm in here.  Bloody evil vibes, messing up the senses.”  
  
Angel snorted.  “What senses?  A Wroklish demon could sneak up on you and you wouldn't even know what hit you until you were halfway down its throat.”  
  
“Oi!  'M not that drunk!”  
  
“Who said anything about being drunk?”  He ducked and just barely avoided being slugged in the head as Spike swung the bottle his way.  Then backed away slowly as five feet plus of English fury closed in on him “I'm joking!  Spike, stop it.  Jesus, watch the coat!”  
  
Spike stopped, lowering the dripping bottle and frowning in sudden remembrance.  “Yeah... the coat.  Huh.  You never told me where you were going.”  
  
“Why so interested?”  Angel gave the elevator door a kick before grumpily heading for the staircase.   
  
“Oh nothing.”  Shaking the last drops out of the bottle and onto his tongue Spike then shoved the empty vessel head-down into a flower pot that smelled slightly of pee and followed Angel down the badly lit stairs.  “Just wondering what got you to dress up like that, smelling like you just showered in Chanel No.5.”  
  
Angel looked back over his shoulder, frowning in confusion.  “That's women's perfume.”  
  
Spike smirked.  “I know.”  
  
“I don't smell like...”  Angel gritted his teeth.  “If you must know I'm going to the opera.”  
  
Spike stopped short, groaning.  “God, you never change, do you?”  
  
“What?  Hello! Soul!  And... much better hair.”  He ignored Spike's snort.  “I've changed plenty.  I'm not stuck in the seventies like some people.  Got nicer clothes and, and...”  
  
“And clean.”  Spike nodded.  
  
“And clean.”  He blinked.  “What?”  
  
“You're cleaner.  Don't stink as much.”  Spike leaned in and inhaled deeply, eyes closed.  Then he opened them and looked down at a puzzled Angel.  “How often did you take a bath back in the days.  Once a year?”  
  
“What?  No!  I... The tubs were all too damn small!  And the water was never warm enough and...”  He scowled.  “I did not stink!”  
  
Spike smiled, his eyes losing focus as he thought back.  “Nah. Smelled rather nice actually.  Mostly of fresh human blood and endless sex.”  He shook his head to clear the memories away.  “Now you smell like pigs blood and lonely nights with Mr. Hand.  Pretty pathetic, eh?”  
  
Angel's scowl deepened and he stomped on down the stairs.  “Like you're any better.”  
  
“Whole lot better than Mr. Hand!” Spike shook his fist suggestively, then muttered sourly under his breath, “And don't tell me you've forgotten.”  
  
Angel halted abruptly and turned around in surprise only to have Spike walk right into his chest and they both stumbled down the steps like a pair of clumsy dancers.  In a desperate attempt to regain his balance Angel grabbed Spike by the shoulders and then felt earth give way to gravity and before he had time to figure out his next move he lay flat on his back on the landing, Spike sprawled indignantly on top of him, eyes blinking in shock.   
  
Ow!  Forget the humiliation and the fact that his beautiful $2000 coat was at least covered in dust if not even ripped beyond repair... That fucking hurt!  The lowest step had probably made a permanent imprint in his butt, the back of his head was singing from the blow to the wall and to top it all off, Spike's knee had managed to hit him with suspicious accuracy right in the nuts!  He sucked in his breath as his eyes fought to uncross and his testicles to stop rattling.  One breath, two breaths, three...  
  
“Get off me!  You fucking moron, what the hell are you doing?”  
  
Spike stared down at him with wide eyes, lips parted in shock.  Then he pushed himself frantically up but one hand landed on the silk lining of Angel's coat where it slipped and he tumbled forward again, knocking his forehead against Angel's nose.  
  
“Ow!  Fuck, Spike!”  Jesus, _that_ hurt!  Was it bleeding?  Was it...?  Damn!  Angel pinched his nostrils together between his fingers.  “You bwoke by dothe!”  He rolled over until he was straddling Spike on the floor, blood dripping down his chin.  With a crack he set his nose straight again, the pain only fuelling his anger.  “Damn you!”  
  
“Sorry, mate.  I didn't mean to...”  There was a silence and then a low purr echoed in the stairwell.  
  
Angel looked down in surprise, meeting yellow eyes half closed in pleasure, a pink tongue licking blood of sharp fangs.  As he watched, two more drops fell down from his chin and Spike caught them with his tongue, the rumbling in his chest growing louder.   At Angel's shocked look he frowned and licked his lips.  “What?”  
  
“You're purring.”  
  
“Am not!  I'm...”  Spike paused.  “Oh.”  His face smoothed out and the soft vibration stopped abruptly, leaving Angel feeling oddly nostalgic.   
  
“Not my fault!  You're the one dripping blood on me.  Can't be giving me your blood and expect me to just...”  Spike shivered as another drop landed on his face, just inches from his lips.  “Bloody hell, Angel.  Stop bleeding!”  
  
“I can't just....”  He searched his pockets for a handkerchief but came up empty.  He could feel the thick liquid running over his lips and down his chin and he just knew his nice white shirt was ruined.  Angry he wiped at his nose with the back of his hand, the dark red smear a shocking contrast against his pale skin.  “Shit!”  
  
Spike was staring up at him, pupils wide and dark, and when Angel ran his tongue over his lips in an effort to swipe up most of the damage he let lose a low growl which seemed to surprise himself as much as it did Angel.   
  
Suddenly Angel realised the proximity of their bodies, especially certain parts of them and with abrupt embarrassment he felt his cock grow hard in his loose pants.  He awkwardly shifted, which only made the situation more evident as his erection pushed against Spike's thigh.  Spike closed his eyes momentarily, only to open them again with such desperate need glowing in them that Angel felt dizzy and when he heard the sharp intake of breath it took him a moment to realise it came from his own chest.  
  
“I should...”  He stopped, unable to remember what he was going to say.  Instead he found himself leaning down, part of his brain registering the matching hardness in Spike's jeans throbbing against his thigh, part of it wondering what the hell he was doing, but it all got lost in the depths of Spike's eyes, in the tensing of his lips, in the strength of his fingers digging into Angel's biceps.  
  
The kiss was soft and hesitant.  For a second and then Spike's hands were in Angel's hair, pulling him down as he crushed their lips hard together, the growl erupting in his mouth making Angel's tongue vibrate when it pushed inside.  Spike tasted of whiskey and tobacco and Angel's blood coating his tongue.   
  
A hundred years and he still tasted the same, still smelled the same, still felt so painfully familiar writhing underneath him that any moment now Angel expected to hear Drusilla's laughter ringing from behind locked doors.  'My boys!  My boys are dancing!' And he'd known he'd be in for a beating once Darla got home but God was it worth it!  
  
Spike's hands were trembling, clumsy fingers fumbling with the buttons on Angel's bloodstained shirt.  The heavy coat draped over them like a tent, only allowing glimpses of the yellow lightning to dance upon Spike's skin as Angel ripped the t-shirt off his chest.  He lowered his head, feeling Spike's hitched breath brushing his hair as he latched onto the pale skin, sucking a trail of bruises from one nipple to another and finally letting his tongue slide down the bellowing stomach, the fine hairs tickling his lips.  
  
“Angel...”  
  
The buckle resisted only for a second and then he was popping the buttons, his fingers sliding down until Spike's cock was nestled in the palm of his hand.   
  
“God!  Jesus fuck!”  
  
Spike's eyes were impossibly wide, the blue only a rind of bright colour around black pupils.  He was bucking his hips as he fought with Angel's belt, desperate to get his hands on what he knew was waiting inside.  “Bloody fucking piece of stupid sodding shit!”   
  
Angel shut him up with a kiss, sucking the angry tongue into his mouth as he swatted Spike's hands away and with a swift motion unfastened the offending article.  Not bothering with the button, the sound of it popping off and rolling across the floor until it fell over the edge of the landing hardly registering as the zipper thankfully gave easily away and Spike was fighting with him to get there first, eager hands finding their prize within seconds and Angel gladly gave it away, this being a battle he didn't mind losing at all.  
  
He closed his eyes as the slender fingers stroke him with expert ease, knowing his likes and kinks as well if not better than he did himself.  When Spike lifted his hips impatiently, he rose up on his knees, allowing Spike to slide further back and there it was, the wetness of a tongue and the heat of flushed lips, sucking him into heaven.  
  
His groans echoed down the stairs, bouncing off the walls down to the basement and up to the highest floor.  However much he cursed Spike's ever blabbering mouth it couldn't be denied that when he put it to proper use he really was an expert.  It didn't take long until Angel's thighs were shaking with the effort of holding him up and when Spike's hands came up to cup his ass he let his head fall back, one hand grasping the railing, the other pushing down on Spike's chest behind him.   
  
“God...”  His eyes flew open at the sudden intrusion and he froze, staring down at Spike's wicked face.  “What do you think you're doing?”  
  
Spike blinked innocently before letting the cock slide out of his mouth, his lips glistening with precum and saliva.  “What?  You don't like it?”  He wiggled his finger slightly and Angel couldn't help the shudder running through him.   
  
“That's not the point.  Stop it.”  
  
“Even if I...” Spike pushed a bit further in, the tip of his finger barely brushing the sweet spot.  
  
“Spike!”  He had to fight the urge to push back and then took a deep breath as he tried to remember why he was fighting in the first place.  Fact check: This was Spike. They were making out on the stairs. He was the CEO of W &H and anyone could walk in on them any minute.  All reasons that seemed very insignificant as Spike dared another poke.  With a will of steel that he would certainly congratulate himself on later but his body was cursing right now he grabbed Spike's hand and forced it away.  “Not now!”  
  
Spike pouted sulkily but then realisation dawned and a smug smile tugged at his lips.  “So later then?”  
  
Angel wanted to slap him but more than that he really wanted to roll over and tell him to just fucking do it.  He settled for a stern look of what he hoped looked like total indifference.  “Maybe.  Depends on how good you are.” 'And how insane I will still be', he added in his head.  
  
Spike licked his lips, a glint of gold in his eyes.  “Oh, I can be very good.”   
  
He stuck out his tongue and ran it up Angel's cock then let the head slip in between his lips and sucked him in until the tip was tickling his throat.  Angel groaned and grabbed Spike's hair, fucking his mouth hard and deep.  He could easily come like this but however good Spike's mouth was, right this moment he wanted more.  With a sigh of regret he pulled out and stood up, his fingers still entangled in Spike's hair as he pulled him up, ignoring the indignant swearing.  
  
He turned Spike around and pushed him up against the wall, ripping off his jeans then kicking his legs as far apart as they went.  Spike's arms trembled as he braced himself against the rough surface and when Angel licked up his neck he let out a soft whimper, instantly growling as he realised what he'd done.  
  
Angel chuckled, teasing an earlobe with his teeth.  “What's that, Spike?  Are you feeling desperate?”  
  
“You telling me you're not?”  Spike pushed back against Angel's straining erection.  “'Cos I can feel you, mate.  You're practically drooling.”  
  
Angel slid his slick cock in between Spike's cheeks.  “Just as well, eh?  Don't want to hurt you too much.”  
  
He could feel Spike tense, the tendons in his neck standing out like strings, his cheeks clenching around him.   
  
“What?”  
  
“Just... Don't be too rough, all right?”  
  
Angel frowned.  “Spike?”  
  
Spike shook his head.  “I'm okay.  Just do it, you ponce.”  
  
Rummaging in the pockets of his coat Angel pulled out a small packet and ripped it open with his teeth.  Spike looked back over his shoulders, frowning as he sniffed the air.  
  
“What are you doing?  This is not the time for a snack, Angel!”  
  
“I grabbed these to have at the opera.  It's three hours long, you know and I couldn't exactly bring blood.  Not that I'll be going now, the first part's already started,” he added mournfully.  
  
“Angel!”  
  
“I'm not complaining!  I'm just... ”  He paused as Spike pushed angrily back, eyes glaring over his shoulder.  “Oh, you mean that.  Well, I thought they'd help.”  
  
“Help?  Help with what?  I'm not a bloody kid, you paedophile!  You don't have to lure me into your car with sweets!”  
  
Angel rolled his eyes.  “They're Reese's Peanut Butter Cups.  They have fillings.  See?”  A creamy finger slid in between Spike's cheeks and prodded at his entrance.  “Smooth and extra buttery.”  
  
“I'll... nngh... smell like... a-a.... Christ! bloody peanut!”  He sucked in his breath as Angel added another finger.  “Oh, fuck!”  
  
“That’s the idea.”   
  
Angel inhaled the sweet smell off peanut butter mixing with the more tangent scent of Spike's increasing arousal.  And his own, he had to admit.  Just the thought of sliding into that sweet (God, he was so funny!) place was enough to make his cock twitch and his balls jump in excitement.  Better take it slow though.  It had been a while and he was no soulless beast anymore that took pleasure in ravaging virgins - which thanks to his Victorian and quite prudish upbringing Spike would be for all eternity -  even if a wet dream or two might disagree with him.  He really didn't go for that sort of thing anymore...  
  
“Angel?”  
  
“Hmm... huh?”  He came back from the very lovely image of William crawling desperately away from him with his torn breaches around his ankles.  Spike was staring at him over his shoulder with smouldering eyes.  “What?”  
  
“Sometime this century might be nice.”  
  
“I'm getting to it!”  He pulled out his fingers, smirking at Spike's sharp inhale, and broke open another cup, smearing the contents on his cock.  “Doing this for you anyway.  I'm not the one that was all tense,” he muttered.  
  
“You're not the one that's getting his arse staked, mate, or you bloody well would be.  And I'm not tense!”  Spike drew in his breath at the sudden insistent pressure.  “Okay, maybe just a little tense.”  He closed his eyes.  “Last time was... not pleasant.”  
  
Angel stopped.  He'd forgotten about that.  “Erm... yeah.  About that...”  
  
“Oh for fuck's sake, Angel!  Will you just get on with it or I swear I'll go give Gunn a present he'll never forget.”  
  
Angel snorted.  “Yeah, right.  Gunn is straighter than an arrow.”  
  
“Angel, I can turn any man gay.  I mean, look at you.”  
  
He growled indignantly.  “I'm not gay!  I'm a vampire!”  
  
“Yeah, yeah.”  Spike rolled his eyes.  “Whatever.  Are you gonna shag me or not?”  
  
“Are you gonna shut up?”  And he pushed in, buttery fingers digging into Spike's hips as he pulled him roughly closer, impaling him fully on his cock.  The loud yelp made Angelus laugh and Angel sternly reprimanded him before leaning forward to place a kiss on Spike's shoulder.  “Oops.  Sorry.  You all right?”  
  
“Don't you bloody 'oops' me!  You did that on purpose, you bastard.” Spike let his head fall back, eyes closed.  “Now shut up and do it again.”  
  
This time Angel allowed the low chuckle to emerge, twisting Spike's head to the side to give him a quick kiss before pulling slowly out and then slamming back inside.  “Like this?”  He growled and started fucking Spike hard and fast, his greasy hands slipping on Spike's hips, leaving smears of peanut butter on top of the flowering bruises.  
  
“Yeah... God!  Oh fuck!”  Spike's arms were trembling, sweaty palms slipping on the white wall.  
  
“Yeah, that's it.”  He let go with his right hand, grasping at Spike's face until it turned his way, eyes all dark and burning, and pushed a couple of fingers in between the thin lips.  He panted with shallow breaths as Spike let them eagerly in, licking at the peanut butter before sucking the fingers hard and steadily in rhythms with Angel's thrusts. “Fuck.  Jesus, Spike!”  
  
He sped up, wondering why in hell he hadn't done this the moment Spike bumped into the door after getting his scrawny little body back.  “Want it hard, boy?  Want daddy to fuck your slutty little ass, eh?”  
  
Spike gave him a pissed off look and then suddenly his face shifted and he bit down, sucking blood from the fleshy webbing between Angel's thumb and index finger.  
  
“Oh God!  You little...!”  Angel gasped, his free hand reaching around to grab Spike's cock, as if he could prevent his own orgasm that way.  “Shit!  I'm gonna...”  With a frustrated growl he thrust as deep and hard as he could, his attempt to smirk as Spike let go of his hand and howled, bucking and thrashing in his clutches, failing miserably since his mouth was quite busy yelling his own curses.  Spike was clenching around him, milking him dry of every drop as he spilled his own release over Angel's hand as well as splattering the white wall.   
  
They stood heaving for breath, Angel slumped over Spike's back, his hand lazily wiping the sticky mix of semen and peanut butter on Spike's thigh.  Then he raised his head and growled at Spike who had a dazed look of surprise on his face.  
  
“You cheated!  I wasn't ready to come yet.  And I did **not** give you permission to drink from me!”  
  
Spike blinked a few times, eyes swimming with the euphoria of orgasm.  Then his dazed expression changed into that of a scowl and he pushed Angel off.  “Permission?  _Permission!?!_ I don't need no sodding permission!  And for the record, mate, I am not your “boy” and you are not my “daddy”.  It's been a fucking century, Angel.  Get off your high horse.”  
  
Angel staggered back, pulling up his pants.  “But...”  
  
“No!  No buts.  Things have changed, Sire.  You bloody well better move with the times.”  
  
That didn't sound good.  He liked it the way it had always been.  “Or... or what?”  
  
“Or...”  Spike drew in his breath.  “Or this won't happen again.  All right?”  
  
Angel pouted, even if he knew fully well that he had nothing on Spike in that apartment.  “But I thought you liked our games.”  
  
Spike stood still, watching him for a moment.  Then a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.  “Well, yeah.  Sometimes.  As long as we're just playing... Just want to make sure you know where we stand, luv.”  He gave Angel a stern look.  
  
Angel tried without much luck to hide his enthusiasm.  “No no, I know.  I get it.  You.  Me. New times.  Right?”  
  
Spike grinned.  “Right.  So we going up to your fancy penthouse then?”  He scooped up his jeans then ran an appreciating eye over Angel's ruffled appearance.  “Someone needs a good licking.  Get all that peanut butter off.”  He licked his lips and wriggled his eyebrow before starting up the stairs, naked buttocks bopping with each step.  
  
“Yes!”  Angel hurried after him, holding up his pants.  “It's really sticky.”  
  
Spike stopped and looked down at him.  “Wasn't talking about you, mate.”  He playfully slapped his own bare butt and smirked before continuing up.   
  
Angel just smiled.  “Oh, I know.  
  
fin


End file.
